


Unmyeong

by mybigfatcat



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, MADE era, Romance, Very sporadic updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-06 22:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3149948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybigfatcat/pseuds/mybigfatcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seungri doesn't know when his "maybe" became a "yes". Life is infinitely harder to navigate when in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small series of chapters that I will post whenever I have some spare time. They're going to be short, and perhaps not that many, but hopefully enjoyable to read either way. I will update the tags for every chapter depending on what's relevant for that piece.

.

 

 

 

 

 

**Prologue**

 

It's cold and wet outside, but where Seungri is standing he burns. He burns both figuratively and literally. There's several large light rigs aimed at him from above and ahead, and to his left, just off stage, he can feel Jiyong's eyes follow his every move.

This is how it has been during his entire solo promotion.

Somehow, wherever he turns, there's Jiyong evaluating his work, what he says, how he sings and how he greets the fans. He gets reports too, when Jiyong has something else to do and leaves quickly. Seungri gets emails that are several pages long.

This wouldn't have bothered him a couple of years ago, but little Seunghyun is all grown up by now, and the constant monitoring is starting to piss him off. To put it mildly.

He can't wait for his album to drop off the music charts so he can have some peace of mind.

 

 

**Unmyeong: A story about things that never happened**

-

When it rains in summer it sometimes gets stifling hot and humid to the point that you don't know where the rain and the air ends. Other times you turn your head towards the sky and welcome the refreshing flow of raindrops on your skin. The summer of Seungri's ninth year stays in his memories because the weather had been dry and hot, but then came the rain in July. He had spent boring days on dusty gravel and indoors in front of an electric fan. When the big thundering clouds arrived he went out on an adventure. He made small boats and ships out of leaves, grass and bark. He ran between the tall bamboo stems and watched how the rain slowly made its way from leaf to leaf in the dense foliage. He caught frogs and insects in big glass and plastic jars and spent late evenings categorizing them with his grandfather's encyclopedias.

That summer is magical to him. When it rains in summer he thinks back to it. Sometimes he watches trees fly by outside the car windows and wonders if he could still climb one.

Jiyong once brings him to his parent's pension. It rains both days they stay there. Jiyong is disappointed, but Seungri goes out in his oil coat and his wellingtons to see the lake.

Jiyong's mother makes a fuss when he comes back with pale blue lips. He's sent straight to bed with a mug of steaming coffee, Jiyong trailing him in his steps.

He's only had a sip of his coffee, he's barely even settled under the comforter, before Jiyong kisses him. It's soft and searching, Seungri doesn't know how to react. The moment is gone in an instant and the world around him expands to fit this new knowledge. He'd never been kissed by a man, but suddenly _now_ he had. Jiyong, with a deep frown between his brows, is looking at him from just inches away.

-No?

Jiyong asks.

-Maybe.

Seungri replies.

Once more he thinks of that summer when he was nine. He remembers the warm air and the refreshing drops of rain. Cool, like Jiyong's lips.

 

Time makes some memories appear with a rosy glow of warmth and nostalgia. At a certain point you're not really sure of what happened and what your imagination has added through the years. Seungri doesn't always remember correctly, especially when it comes to Jiyong.

He's sure that their anniversary is on the fifth of August. Jiyong reminds him that it's on the eighth. Seungri distinctly remembers Jiyong to have told him that he loved Seungri on a Friday, his diary tells him that it was on a Wednesday.

Time heals all wounds. It does so by rearranging the way we experience our lives. It mends the gaping holes that loved ones leave behind by making us forget about it little by little. Seungri doesn't remember what day, or even what month, he got his heart first broken.

 _Maybe_ , he had said. When had that become a _yes_?

Seungri just doesn't remember. Not exactly.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because a ([post](http://mybigfatcat.tumblr.com/post/134137444343/my-aesthetic-jiyong-repeatedly-telling-people)) I did on tumblr got a tiny bit popular, and this is what I came up with based on it.

 

When the phone rings ten in the morning he barely registers the sound of it vibrating against the floor. It takes a couple of tries to locate it as he fumbles with his fingers against the cold stone slabs, but he finally grabs something that is also cold, but square.

“Yeah, who's this?” Seungri croaks, voice rough and dry from being unused.

“You need to tell Jiyong to stop going on about your voice,” Seunghyun orders through the phone, “we're promoting ZUTTER here but Jiyong just won't shut up about you maknae.

Seungri thinks Seunghyun sounds part irritated, part pleased with himself. He probably knows he's woken Seungri up.

“Since when does he listen to me?” Seungri asks and that is really the question here, _when_ has Jiyong ever listened to him?

“Tssh, I'm calling the CEO.”

“Sure, you do that hyung, I'm going back to sleep. Have you even tried talking in interviews so that Jiyong doesn't have to do all the talking?”

Seungri doesn't get an answer because Seunghyun hangs up on him.

Bastard.

He drops the phone on the fluffy rug beside his bed and flops over onto his back. The curtains are blocking most of the sunlight but a thin sliver reaches his face, it lights up his nose and suddenly he doesn't think he will be able to fall asleep again. Damn that Seunghyun.

How is it even his problem that Jiyong has taken to talking nonstop about him in interviews? Nonstop might be a bit of an exaggeration, but something to that effect. If anything it's not helped Seungri at all, with the CEO breathing down his neck extra hard, being more careful than ever with how much space he takes up on the stage. How is it even remotely Seungri's fault that Jiyong varies between not really noticing him to being an overbearing mother hen?

Recording this album had been some of the most fun times of his life, but thinking back he remembers all the hours he and Jiyong spent alone in the recording studio and how he felt like strangling Jiyong when he had to sing the same line for the umpteenth time.

“You need to hold back when you end that line, don't use too much power, it will sound cheesy if you do.”

Jiyong had nagged and it had taken twelve attempts after that to sing it with the perfection he had demanded.

“I say he's Yang Hyunsuk's problem,” Seungri says to the ceiling and sits up on the bed. He needs two liters of coffee and an hour on the treadmill if he's going to survive tonight.

 

The airport is calm, almost dead. It's 3 AM and Seungri's failed plan of sleeping until evening left him sluggish and a bit chilled. He'd wrapped himself up in a thick woolen coat and a knitted scarf he'd dug up from the back of the hallway closet, but he still felt like his teeth would start to rattle any minute. Half of his face was covered in a big black face mask, safety first and all that, he wouldn't want to infect the others if he was coming down with something.

“You're the last to check in,” the manager trailing behind him said and Seungri hummed in reply. If he was lucky they'd already be boarding once he reached the gate.

He's got no such luck though. Somehow, he manages to pass through the airport with out a single squeal from a fan or flash from a camera go off, but Seunghyun pounces on him as soon as he reaches the waiting area by their gate.

“Maknae, where have you been? _We_ were worried about you,” he complains, voice rumbling. Seungri doesn't ask about the weird weight put on the 'we'. He thinks it's best not to, let sleeping dogs lay, and all that.

Screw it, he can probably guess what it's all about.

“Why would you worry, it's half an hour to boarding,” he whines and struggles when Seunghyun pulls him with an arm around the neck towards the others.

Daesung makes a pained noise but Yougbae and Jiyong sits close together, completely absorbed in some game they're playing on a phone.

Seungri is left to fend Seunghyun off for half an hour, the bone-crunching grips he older man has on him at least raises his temperature through pure frustration. When they finally get to sit down in their seats he expects Seunghyun to flop down beside him and take up all the leg-room, but instead it's Jiyong, quiet and wrapped up in a designer jacket one size too large.

“You didn't reply to my message,” Jiyong says and fuck, right, he'd gotten a chat message yesterday before he fell asleep. It had slipped his mind completely.

“I was completely nackered after the party,” Seungri says and attempts giving Jiyong the puppy eyes,” I'm sorry hyung.”

“Don't 'hyung' me, you're a crappy friend sometimes,” Jiyong chides but he's smiling brightly behind the collar of his turtle neck shirt.

And suddenly it's all back to normal. It's as if he's held his breath without realising and now, finally, he can release it.

“Seunghyun called, he said you're going on about me during interviews. Is that some sort of punishment for being a crappy friend? Are you going to make me so popular I'll give up and leave the country?”

Jiyong blushes. _Blushes_.

Seungri laughs.

“I'm gonna kill that bastard,” Jiyong says, and Seungri laughs even harder.

“Just what I thought this morning.”


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having more and more fun as I get closer to the plotline I have imagined for this story :3 I'm sure it's a bit confusing, but keep in mind, the prologue is not on the same timeline as the first or this second chapter.

It was a while since Seungri last had ended up at the same party as Jiyong. Most times they weren't even in the same country and let alone the same part of town. It feels a bit odd when they bump into each other on the way to the bar, a bit surreal somehow. Maybe that's how it feels for people to suddenly meet a colleague at their local grocery store, when you're not expecting to see anyone you know. Seungri recovers with a smile and Jiyong says something that doesn't travel well in the loud music blasting out of the speakers.

"I CAN'T HEAR WHAT YOU'RE SAYING!" Seungri shouts back and Jiyong starts to laugh.

Pointing at the bar he urges Seungri to follow.

Just as magically as always Jiyong procures two drinks even though the bar is overcrowded by thirsty party-goers. It's not wine, Seungri notes with relief, instead it's two fingers of amber liquid in heavy tumblers. He takes the glass from Jiyong who smiles sort of mysteriously and they stand looking at each other like that for a while. Jiyong nods up towards the balcony and Seungri shakes his head. Jiyong points at the roof-terrace and Seungri shakes his head again. This time Jiyong laughs and his laughter is drowned in the music just like his voice had been.

“LET'S JUST FIND SOMEWHERE TO SIT!” Seungri shouts like before and Jiyong shrugs, already moving towards the back, past the dancing and mingling people.

The music feels less oppressing when they squeeze down in a tiny booth, their knees are touching and their shoulders knock together. Seungri finally takes a sip of his drink and his mouth is filled with the taste of smoke and aged oak barrels. There's no ice in the glass, and no water either. He had no idea that Jiyong drinks whiskey straight. He wonders why he doesn't know that.

“I wasn't expecting you here, weren't you in Kobe yesterday?” Jiyong says, his voice now magically carrying across the air to Seungri's ears.

“I was, I came back this morning.”

“So your courtship didn't work out as planed? Since you're back this quick.”

“Courtship?” Seungri asks. Jiyong is glancing up at him, his elbows against the table.

“Mmm, Youngbae says you have a girl there.”

Seungri stills, and feels even more odd than before. It's like he's never ever wanted to have this conversation with his friend, and he has no idea why. Maybe it's the way Jiyong is looking at him, as if he dreads every word that's going to come out of Seungri's mouth. Is this the moment when Seungri will have to swear to Jiyong that he's not going to marry until their career has reached its peak, that he's not to destroy their success with a mindless love affair. It makes his stomach churn, that he's about to have the dreaded “talk” with his band mate.

“No,” Seungri lies, “I was just visiting a friend. You know the architect one.”

“Nope, no idea. You never tell me about your friends, maknae,” Jiyong chides.

The look in Jiyong's eyes seems to have faded. Seungri knows that he should be feeling better again. He doesn't.

They sit like that, calmly chatting, for an hour or so before they go separate ways.

 

When Seungri comes home early in the morning he sees that he's gotten a chat message from Jiyong. It simply reads “remember?”.

He's gotten a message like that before. Many times in fact. It's just that he can never remember what it is that he's supposed to remember.

Jiyong never talks about it and Seungri never remembers.

When Seungri finds himself in a plane with Jiyong that same day, he realizes that the message he had forgotten to reply to was not the first of its kind.

He takes his phone out when Jiyong has gone to the restroom, opens their private chat room and scrolls. He scrolls and scrolls, sees at least five of that same message fly by.

“Remember what?” Seungri whispers to himself.

 

The day is filled with rehearsals and meetings and long checklists of chores and things to remember. When Seungri finally gets to collapse on a hotel bed he's only just hit the mattress face down when there's a knock on the door. He knows who's on the other side of the door just from the languid rattle of knuckles against the wood.

With a sigh he rolls around and stands back up again.

“I hung the 'do not disturb sign' up for a reason,” he mutters at Jiyong who stands in the dimly lit hotel corridor wearing a hotel robe and a beanie.

Seungri steps aside and let's him in when the only greeting he gets is a tired look.

Jiyong has collapsed on Seungri's bed even before the door has closed behind them.

“I'm gonna borrow half of your bed.”

Jiyong's voice comes out muffled against the bedspread.

“Sure,” Seungri says and can't help but to smile a little. It's been years since Jiyong last came to his hotel room like this. But now that they've ended up at a party together again, now that they've sat next to each other on the plane, now that Jiyong finally wanted them to be alone in the recording studio again – now it feels like this is something Seungri has missed even without realizing.

When he crawls in under the sheets he hears Jiyong kick his hotel slippers of. The room falls almost silent and the only sound is faint traffic noise from the outside. Seungri falls asleep as he's trying to gather enough energy to say goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that I posted this second chapter exactly a year after I posted the prologue. I feel like such a dumbass for some reason *facepalm*


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter but this scene is to be continued.

Jiyong keeps pulling the collar of his turtleneck sweater down by his index finger, puffing his cheeks up as he watches and thinks. It's a cute motion, he's a cute package, but the collar is taking some serious damage. Once he's released it so he can point at the tiny screen you can tell that the collar is permanently stretched out at the front. Seungri smiles and looks down. If he keeps looking he might walk over there. 

"You know, he's been checking and rechecking those pictures a couple of times now. You think he'll be finished soon?" Youngbae asks, prodding Seungri with a rolled up magazine. The latest issue of the magazine they're being shot for actually. It had a bare chested male model with a freckled face on the cover. Seungri waves the magazine away and frowns at Youngbae.

"How should I know?"

"Just thought you might, that's all," Youngbae replies and keeps his eyes focused on Jiyong and his mania fastidiousness.

If Seungri didn't know better he'd say that Bae is jealous. Very jealous in fact. But that doesn't make any sense, not even a bit. Maybe it's more of a sense of protectiveness, or just annoyance.

"I can't read his mind," Seungri says and stands up. He tried to avoid it but now he kinda has to. Against his liking he walks across the cold concrete floor to where Jiyong is looking at today's shots with the photographer and the editor for their piece. They're deep in some discussion. Jiyong looks up as he approaches.

"Getting bored, maknae?" he asks like the bastard he is. 

"I'm getting _curious_ ," Seungri replies with a raised eyebrow. Don't screw me over in front of these people, he says in his head. Jiyong replies with a smirk that means don't worry I'm just joking.

"We're finished now Mr. Lee," the editor says with her face lit up by her pretty smile, "you can all go home now since you worked so hard. The shots are just what we hoped for." She bows slightly and Seungri bows back and starts to say that she doesn't have to call him 'Mr. Lee' but Jiyong has other plans.

"Thanks, both of you, it was a real pleasure working with your team," Jiyong says and Seungri has to bow at them again. He ads a few pleasantries himself as the others come over and say their thanks too. When they finally get out of the studio with Jiyong's manager at their tails it's twenty minutes later and dark outside. Seungri checks his phone as the others disperse into the night with goodbyes and goodnights. It's nine pm. He counts the hours backwards to when he had lunch. 

"Up for some Chinese at your place?," Jiyong asks, standing next to Seungri with his hands in his jeans pockets. The casual stance tugs at the corner of Seungri's mouth. 

"Sure. If you pay."

"I always pay," Jiyong claims and Seungri bumps into him with his shoulder. Jiyong's manager clears his throat and makes a theatrical salute at them.

"Later," Jiyong says and Seungri says "Goodnight, hyung," with his best junior voice. They're left alone by Jiyong's car (the inconspicuous non-sports car one), and Seungri suddenly feels the tension his shoulder have been holding all day. 

"You're driving," Seungri says and walks over to the passenger side of the black sedan.

Jiyong laughs, with his head slightly tilted back and his eyes closed. The honest laugh.

"You're demanding all sorts of things these days, soon you'll want me on my knees," Jiyong says, still laughing. 

There's something in the way he says it, something that indicates that it's not a completely innocent remark, that sends Seungri's blood rushing through his body. His ears heat up and he hopes Jiyong can't tell in the orange light of night. It's a line he uses on girlfriends and female staff, a line that Seungri has never had directed at him before.

"Just drive, _oppa_ " Seungri says and gets into the car. If Jiyong's laugh is any indication then Seungri is doing a fine job at diverting the subject. The subject this time being "is my painfully obvious bisexual best friend flirting with me, or is he just a veeeeery good friend?". It's a question Seungri has been asking himself every night for the last months.

When he's figured out the answer to that one he might move on to the question of "do I tell my obviously bisexual friend that thinks I'm very straight that I'm actually a hundred percent gay?". That'll be a tricky one. "Youngbae told you that I'm seeing a girl in Kobe, but I was actually seeing a man," does not feel like a good way to start any sort of conversation. He kinda wishes that he'd come out of the closet when he was younger, at least to his band mates, because being completely closeted at twenty-six is totally pathetic. He hasn't told anyone. Not a single soul.

Looking over at Jiyong as he drives towards Seungri's house feels safe. Safe because Jiyong is too busy with the task at hand to wonder why Seungri is staring.

Watching his hyung's profile in the flashing lights of the passing cars is safe because Jiyong is not going to look back at him right now, not when he's concentrated at switching to all the correct lanes on the road. It's safe to watch Jiyong's beautiful features and to feel his heart swell with feelings he's not going to label. It's safe for a while, then he looks at the road ahead of him. 

"I like driving you places," Jiyong suddenly says, breaking the silence. His low voice is barely audible over the hum of the car.

"I'm sorry about the no-driving-rule, I'll drive you everywhere after YG lifts it."

"Don't worry, I don't mind," Jiyong repeats. Seungri relaxes into the leather seat and keeps his eyes fixed on the traffic ahead. They stay silent for the rest of the drive.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself to never use terms like "hyung" or "maknae" while writing fanfics. I lied to myself. I'm assuming you all know what those types of korean terms mean. Otherwise google is your best friend.

The food has arrived.

Jiyong spent most of the waiting time browsing his phone. Scrolling pages down and down and down, seemingly completely absorbed in whatever he was reading and looking at. He did that a lot lately, not even bothering to go to a chat to send ridiculous messages to friends. He just scrolled down search pages on Naver or whatever, without even caring _what_ he was viewing.

Seungri had fuzzed with their drinks while Jiyong surfed. Beer? Did Jiyong want beer? Yeah he could crash in his apartment, no problem.

Seungri had known that that was going to happen anyway. Jiyong never came over for Chinese unless he had decided to hog Seungri's sheets and comforter all night. So who was he to complain, he'd agreed to Chinese.

With warm containers of noodles and dumplings and various pickled and fried vegetables in front of them there's another silence that has settled around them. It's not that they don't talk while they eat, it's just that the pauses in between conversation drags comfortably as they chew and slowly empty their plates.

It had been a while since Jiyong last had eaten Chinese food in Seungri's apartment though. It must've been at least three apartments ago. They've got better view this time around. That first apartment had been on the sixth floor of an old concrete building surrounded by other concrete buildings. There'd been no other view than a glimpse of a few trees down by a street corner and those other gray buildings. Seungri had had his living room curtains drawn all the time, and the tiny kitchen window had faced a cinder-block wall of a ratty old office building. It'd been all he could afford after they'd all moved out of their shared, agency-paid, housing. The one after that hadn't been much better.

Burdened with tricks of the trade inherited from his mother, Seungri had moved up on the property ladder. His current home had huge glass windows with a view of the mountains and other newly renovated buildings like his. He owned all the ten floors of it and lived on the top floor himself. They could sit by the kitchen breakfast bar, the counter top being made of black cold stone, on high bar stools with leather seats, looking out at the gorgeous view across the somewhat spacious living room. The fancy looking chair in the corner had been provided by Seunghyun as a housewarming gift since he didn't trust their maknae to be able to decorate for shit.

This apartment doesn't only have a nice view, it's got two spare bedrooms and a home-office of sorts. A place where he can store paperwork without having it spreading and infecting his living room bookcases filled with designer knickknacks. The spare bedrooms are left unused, the only one that's ever stayed the night in an apartment of Seungri's is Jiyong. And Youngbae once, by the front door, when he'd accidentally mixed wine with a prescription and passed out while tying his shoes. They had all voted for leaving him there, with the addition of a pillow and a blanket of course (they weren't complete brutes). That had been in that first ratty apartment of his.

“A lot on your mind tonight?,” Jiyong asks. Seungri jolts into movement. He's been staring at the piece of fried eggplant between his chopsticks for god knows how long.

“Just tired,” he sighs and Jiyong nods and dittos. By the look of the bags underneath his eyes, tired is an understatement. He could probably take Seungri on for the title of BIGBANG panda bear.

The eye-bags are still covered up nicely behind the makeup from the magazine shoot though.

“You think it'll come out looking good?”

“What?” Jiyong says.

“The photos, the interview,” Seungri elaborates and gestures with his chopsticks and the piece of sad eggplant.

Jiyong smiles and it's definitely the flying eggplant that amuses him.

“Sure, it'll look great. Seunghyun even spoke this time. Damn near talked the rest of us into the margins.”

“I guess he just wanted to avoid you talking about my angelic and sensational singing voice,” Seungri says and winks. Jiyong nearly chokes on a noodle and grabs Seungri's glass of water, gulping the contains down.

“Nuh-uh!” Jiyong argues.

Seungri folds his arms across his chest. He even lifts an eyebrow.

“You know, I _can_ handle CEO Yang Hyunsuk by myself, I don't need your protection against him. He knows he can't kick me off the group because then you guys will follow, he just wants to keep me in check that's all. So when you go out of your way to praise me in every interview ever it looks like you're trying to discredit the way he thinks I shouldn't be center-stage, or sing a chorus. And then he takes that shit out on me,” Seungri says. He says it quietly, but he keeps looking at his friend straight in the eyes.

“I can't believe you can talk about things like this without feeling embarrassed,” Jiyong sighs. He's seemingly mulling over a reply for a while before he throws his hands up in the air, the international gesture of defeat.

“Fine, I'll never mention your singing again. I still like your voice though.”

“You just like it because you're used to it by now,” Seungri jokes at his own expense.

“I like it because you've finally grown into it,” Jiyong says and puts his own chopsticks down. Seungri opts out of commenting his statement.

They both look at the dirty containers and throw their fists out in a frenzied game of rock-paper-scissors. Seungri loses and get's stuck with clearing the containers, stuffing them back into the thermos bag they came in and dump it outside his front door.

He hears Jiyong starting the shower as he wipes the counter. He's willing to bet a lot of money that it isn't the shower in the en-suit bathroom of the biggest spare room he's hearing. Thinking about Jiyong naked in his private bathroom, slightly tanned skin against those black marbles tiles, is however not a good idea. Going down that train of thoughts would never be a good idea – there be dragons in that direction.

Jiyong's hair being black again didn't really help with keeping Seungri's libido under check lately. He'd always preferred Jiyong in his natural hair color, it made it easier for him to imagine that they we're still barely out of their teens, starting a friendship over a cheesy TV drama. His body somehow interpreted that look on Jiyong as being very hot. His brain mostly agreed.

Jiyong's new tattoo didn't help much either.

Seungri mutteres to himself as he's throwing some bags and plastic foil away, dumping the glasses and the metal chopsticks into the dishwasher. He feels ridiculous while doing so, as if he's a frustrated housewife. 

A frustrated housewife having had enough of his own wish-washy courage. He'd be damned if this was going to hurt the fragile familiarity they'd slowly been regaining during the last year.

Seungri marches out of the kitchen and down a short hallway to his bedroom, stepping right in and opening the bathroom door before he has a chance to second-guess his decision. Jiyong was as expected standing stark naked under running water behind the glass walls of the shower. Seungri huffs and forces himself over to the sink, grabbing his toothbrush as if his life depended on it.

“I'll be finished in a minute,” Jiyong declares over the thrum of the water hitting the floor. Seungri huffs again and manages to grab the tube of green tea flavored toothpaste.

“Take your time,” he replies.

It's when Seungri catches a glimpse of his own face in the mirror that he realizes that the haggard look on his face might not be an upgrade from the earlier frustration. But what can a man in his situation do except ignoring, suppressing and moving on? It's a rhetorical question, he's not even going to try to answer that one.

The “hey I've been seeing a man on and off for a few years in Japan but I like you much better”-conversation seems further away from reality than before. If he can just get through this awkward moment he knows that he'll be safe. Sleeping in the same bed as Jiyong is a walk in the park compared to seeing his naked ass. That's what shared housing has done to him. He's fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, yes, this was also short. I keep berating myself for making miniscule updates to this fic but then I remember that that was the point of this whole thing from the beginning anyway - short updates and not very often (just when I felt like it). I hope you're enjoying it anyway!! Cheers~


End file.
